A young Elf and her Knife
by Starstruck Whisperings
Summary: It seems fitting that one of her sentimental belongings is a deadly weapon. A little story from Alehia's youth.


Author's note-

This is a sequel to "A Young Elf's Tale". I would strongly recommend reading it before you read this one. It takes place before her death, but after she was accepted into Cúthalion training. Remember the knife she slept with under her pillow? Well, this gives some background.

Disclaimer: Mirkwood, elves, etc. belongs to Tokien

* * *

"I never want to see you caught by something evil without a weapon," Toruntőnt stated, trying to mask his emotions but his eyes told the truth. Deep sorrow, and fear. I knew why. Hardédôr, a brave and skilled warrior, had been slain that night. I did not know much about him. I had met him a few times, mostly at the stables when I went to check on my horse. He was kind and understanding, and had a passion for horses and animals. I knew Toruntőnt had known him too. I did not understand the fear I had seen at the time, but now I know why. He had grown to love us, and he had become good friends with our family. He had fear for our future. He pulled out two daggers, and I could tell they were no training weapons. These were sharp, and could kill many a foul creature. "When we are surrounded by evil, you should never be off guard." He handed each of us one of the knives. "Keep it with you everywhere, even in places you think are of safety." We nodded, and my sister slipped it into her boot. I did not wear boots, and knew not where I could keep it on my person. Toruntőnt was one step ahead of me. He pulled from one of his many pockets two leather straps. He kneeled, motioning for me to follow suit. He gently moved my ankle, and fastened the blade just above my ankle with the straps. They looked decorative, he explained, so know one will think to remove it from me. He stood up. "Never be unable to defend yourself."

_70 Years Latter_

"What do you think will attack us this time?" Rosechilan swung down to the branch I was sitting on. I paused for a moment.

"Spiders."

"I bet a dozen fletched arrows that it wont."

"You're on."

We were on patrol. Again. Luckily we were together this time, as well as another few of our friends, so while we waited for the inevitable attack, I wouldn't be bored out of my mind. The tree we were standing on murmured something, so I touched my forehead to the trunk of the great oak to listen, knowing many elves would be doing the same on other trees.

_'What are you telling me, mellon nîn?'_

_'Something is coming young one, something dark.'_

_'Do you know where it is?'_

_'Close, they will be upon you in less than 10 minutes.'_

_'Thank you. May you enjoy the sun's rays for ages to come.'_

_'Anything for you, my dear elves.'_

Now I could sense the evil too. I looked to the commander for instruction. He notched an arrow, and we spread out on the trees to form a semi-circle around the direction the monsters were coming, notching arrows of our own. Then I saw them. I looked at Rosechilan, an evil gleam in my eyes. Looks like I won this bet. The battle song of the Cúthalions began.

Our bows sung, the last song these evil creatures would hear. With each melodic releasing of a bow string, a spider would reel in pain, and after more of the arrows, would die. We had picked off many, but this was a large colony and many still reached our perch in the trees. The leader of our group gracefully jumped, landing on a spider's back with one of his knives deep in the beast's neck. We did the same, and the battle wore on.

These also happened to be particularly smart spiders. At the end, the whole clearing was covered in webs, and a few people were wrapped up. In fact, it appeared I was the only one who could move completely – this was because I was still a beginner, with training still left to do, and the others were protecting me. An elf called out to me.

"Cut us free, penneth!" Thankfully, there was no anger in his voice. My knives were glued to the ground with the sticky webs, as were the others. I tried to free them, with no success. I looked up at the trapped elf, with a frown that showed my desperation. "I do not believe those are all you came armed with," he reminded me, looking at my left ankle. I removed the dagger from its straps. I began slashing at the webs, the sharp blade easily cutting through the material.

* * *

I'm in the middle of another one. I'm really just writing for fun, and want feedback. Please review.

Preview for next story, _Comforting Trees  
_

I stared at the mirror. After a lot of scrubbing, all the blood had finally come off. But that wasn't what I was looking at. I had a large scratch across my face, a diagonal line over my eye. The healer said it might leave a scar. I wasn't looking at that either. I was looking into my own eyes.

'Your eyes are an open door to your soul,' Ada always said, or rather, quoted from some important person who I never payed enough attention to remember. And in my soul, all I could see was evil.


End file.
